


Brownies and Gummy Worms

by VoidRambler



Series: Birds and Desserts [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (ideally by Peter), Baking, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Irondad, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidRambler/pseuds/VoidRambler
Summary: Tony never thought he would crave the disaster dessert, let along decide to recreate it.  The dish was loaded with more candy and sugar than any teenager, let alone middle-age man, should indulge in. Still, it was Peter’s signature dessert dish.  It was worth remaking.orTony spends a night trying to recreate Peter's Signature Brownies from memory.---Takes place after Infinity WarInspired by the prompt “Write about someone trying to recreate a grandparent’s signature baked good from memory.”
Relationships: Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Birds and Desserts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117424
Comments: 10
Kudos: 84





	Brownies and Gummy Worms

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t think I’ve ever written a story that wasn’t a writing assignment before. Still, I love Irondad and wanted to try my hand at writing something.
> 
> The idea for this is based on the writing prompt “Write about someone trying to recreate a grandparent’s signature baked good from memory.”
> 
> The story takes place in-between Infinity War and Endgame.
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes, I only briefly edited it.

Tony sits on a kitchen stool and waits. The scent of chocolate and sugar permeates through the room. The oven light is turned on, though the man doesn’t look through the glass window to see the slow rise of the baking good.

The counters around the man are crowded with pans filled with brownies in various stages of cooling. Some of the pan are filled with brownies that have collapsed into themselves at the center, looking underdone and formless. Others have batter that has risen far above the pan in a dome shape, looking soft and airy.

Candies and chocolate protrude the surface of all the desserts - colourful gummy worms and melted skittles only a fraction of the easily identifiable confections. 

\----

_“ Why is there a vending machine’s worth of candy on my counter, Parker?” Tony asks, staring down at the small mountain of candy lying in his kitchen in mild horror._

_“It’s not from a vending machine!” Peter exclaims, his arms held over the pile in a futile attempt to shield it from his mentor’s view._

_Tony drags his gaze away from the pile and towards the boy. “That really wasn’t the point, kid.”_

_“ I-it’s not all for me!”, Peter stammers, flushing a light red, “I need them for baking. They’re necessary!”_

_Tony scoffs lightly, “Necessary for clogged arteries, maybe.” The billionaire picks up a candy bag not hidden under Peter’s arm and examines it. “This better be good, kid”_

_\---_

The cabin kitchen around Tony is surprisingly clean when considering the somewhat frantic measuring and mixing that occurred in it over the last few hours. Four years of feeding, herding and running after a rambunctious baby-turned-toddler has helped the genius become a domestic master. ~~Rounding up a messy spider-kid helped develop those habits even before that.~~

Honestly, Tony never thought he would crave the disaster dessert, let along decide to recreate it. The dish was loaded with more candy and sugar than any teenager, let alone middle-age man, should indulge in. Still, it was Peter’s signature dessert dish. The kid made it for all occasions, whether it was acing a physics test or as an attempt to apologize for breaking lab equipment.

Tony used to sit on the side of the kitchen working on some project or another while Peter made a mess sifting flour or compacting sugar.

Still, despite how often the kid made the dish, the billionaire had little idea what went into the dessert - well, besides the truly horrendous amount of candies dumped into the batter.

No, the man had started his recent brownie making journey from scratch.

In truth, Tony knew that he didn’t need to recreate the recipe.

He could have asked Friday to look up a recording of Peter making the dish from before. FRIDAY could even analyze the video and record the ingredients and instructions - he wouldn’t have had to watch the video himself.

Tony hadn’t done that. He didn’t watch the recordings. He didn’t ask Friday to either ~~~~

\---

_“ Y’know, I had to combine like four different recipes together to get this recipe. I made so many batches during the trial period, Mr. Stark, you wouldn’t believe it. May was not happy – we ran out of eggs like three times.”_

\---

It felt better to try to recreate it on his own.

So, Tony spent the last night trying to remember Peter’s various brownie rambles and figure out how to recreate the kid’s recipe.

After the previous dozen attempts, Tony has a good feeling about the newest batch of brownies baking in the oven. 

The StarkPad in front of him has the latest adjusted recipe loaded on its screen. This time, it includes exactly how many times the batter should be stirred after adding the flour and the exact temperature the butter should be melted to in order to achieve the best brownie texture.

\---

_“I thought you liked brownies,” Tony asks, taking in the way Peter’s face scrunched up slightly when taking a bite out of the bakery brownie square._

_“Well, yeah - most brownies are good, Mr. Stark. But this one is so strange – it’s all weird and crumbly but still somehow cakey”, Peter replies, his face still scrunched._

_Tony’s eyebrow furrow slightly as Peter takes another bite out of the baked good. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it, kid.”_

_The teenager looks at him in confused bewilderment, “It’s still a brownie, Mr. Stark. A free brownie. I can’t just not eat it_ _!”_

\---

It’s the pitter patter of tiny feet that alert Tony to just how long he has been in the kitchen. Overnight lab binges became resoundingly less common since Morgan’s birth – who would have thought a overnight kitchen binge would replace one of them.

“Morning!” Morgan’s calls out, already distracted by the desserts on the counter. She goes over to the counter closest to door, pulling herself up to her tiptoes to peer at the desserts with wide eyes. “Are you joining a baking consquests, Daddy?”

Tony hides a smile at the term. Morgan got really into Princess Warrior stories in the last month. “No baking conquests _or_ contests for me, Morguana. I’m doing an experiment.”

Morgan looks over at Tony with wide eyes, taking a step back from the counter. “Is it an exploding experiment? 'Cause we’re not allowed to do explosions inside – mommy said so.”

“Well, we can’t argue against mommy,” Tony agrees, “No explosions in the house, scouts honour.” 

The look of doubt on the five-year old’s face is both offensive and amusing. “Okay, Daddy. I won’t tell if something does happen – but you have to promise to share with me!”

This time Tony can’t contain a light laugh. “You strike a hard bargain, Little Miss. I accept your ter-, “he’s cut off by the oven timer ringing.

“Better check on those. Stay back, Monogoose,” Tony says, while turning off the timer before sliding on a pair of green oven mitts. He grabs the instant thermometer off the counter and turns to the oven.

Double checking that Morgan’s far out of the way, Tony opens the oven and checks the brownie’s temperature – a much more fool proof way of checking a brownies doneness than stabbing it with a toothpick.

Seeing that they are done, Tony takes the pan out of the oven and sets it on the counter to cool.

“Are they done now? Can we eat them?,” Morgan asks, slowly inching back towards the oven now that the oven is closed.

“Sorry missy, not yet. We have to let them cool down and set first, or else they’ll be all gooey,” Tony replies, tapping Morgan on the nose with a finger. “Let’s freshen up and get dressed first, okay? Don’t think I missed the lack of fresh toothpaste on your shirt today.”

“I don’t always drop toothpaste,” Morgan giggles, squirming away from Tony’s outstretched hand.

Raising an eyebrow, Tony reaches out and pokes one of the many toothpaste stains on the girl’s shirt. “Uh huh. Now come on - washroom, change of clothes, and then we can come back down and do a taste test. Sound good?”

“Okay, daddy! Can we feed Gerald some too?” Morgan replies, holding up her arms to be picked.

Tony lets out an overexaggerated body shudder. “No way, definitely not. These brownies are dangerous enough for human, we are not giving them to the alpaca too.”

“But Daaaaddy!”

* * *

Later, Tony, Pepper, and Morgan sit at the kitchen island, trying bites out of each of the edible looking brownies pans.

“You know this would be easier to just eat with a fork, right?”, Pepper says, using a butter knife to cut a piece of brownie out of a pan before picking it up with her hand to eat.

Tony’s reply is instant. “Sorry, Pep, nope. Can’t do it. Brownies and Forks do not mix.”

\---

_Tony looks over at Peter with slight suspicion. The teenager has sent him multiple strange looks over the last few minutes, quickly glancing away every time he realizes he’s caught looking. “Come on, kid, what it? I can practically see you holding back your comment..”_

_“ W-eellllll, , Mr.Stark, it’s just that- umm…”, Peter starts before trailing off._

_“Yeah, go on.”, the billionaire prompts._

_“Well…just -who even eats brownies with a fork!”, the teenager lets out with sudden passion._

_“You even have a knife! It’s so fancy and strange and elegant!”, Peter exclaims, gesturing with the brownie square held in his hand. “I’m pretty sure if this was English class, that fork would be a visual representation of a status symbol or something!”_

_There’s a beat of silence before Tony replies. “Yeah, nope. Nuh uh. We’re not going to idolize the use of cutlery in this household. I expect you to use proper tableware at every meal, capiche?”_

_“W-what? That’s not fair! Even you don’t use cutlery at every meal!”_

\---

Later, when Pepper’s helping Morgan clean up, Tony slices off two generous squares from the last brownie batch - loosely wrapping them in a tissue before heading outside towards the lake.

The mid-August day is lovely, a gentle cool breeze keeping the summer heat from becoming overwhelming. The surface of the lake glitters as the sun’s light hit the ripples on the lake and scatter outwards.

Tony sits down on a large flat rock near the water’s edge. He lays a handkerchief down on the rock before carefully unwrapping the tissue and picking the larger brownie square to place on the cloth beside him.

“You know, kid,” Tony starts, voice low, eyes gazing out over the water, “I don’t mean to toot my own, but these turned out really good. Chewy and fudgy and filled with way too much candy. Just how you like them – just how you lik _ed_ them.”

His voice cracks on the last sentence. He takes in a sharp breath, letting his head down to his chest, his eyes closed. The tissue in his hand is crushed, his hands tensed tightly around it.

Tony takes a deep breath in and exhales, slowly loosening his grip. Unsurprisingly, the brownie inside the tissue is smushed and mishappened. Some of the crumbs fall out onto his lap.

“I-“, Tony’s voice cuts off before he starts again, “I wish you could try them, Pete. Or make your own batch to compare with. I just- I really wish you were here.” He lets the silence stretch on after the last sentence. 

He sits on the rock for a while after that, taking in the nature around him. The smushed brownie stays in his hands, fingers tightening and loosening around it in small pulses.

Eventually, when the sun starts to set and the sky changes from bright blue to scattered sunburnt orange, Tony gets up, brushing crumbs off himself as he does.

He throws a look at the dessert still resting on the rock; considers leaving it there overnight, giving some wild creature the chance to scavenge it, but decides against it, thinking of how the kid would put up a fuss about it potentially harming some wildlife.

No, Tony decides. No leaving chocolate filled desserts outside where any passing wildlife could find them. 

The man picks up the treat and places both the mishappened brownie and the whole one in his pocket, haphazardly wrapping them up first.

He tosses one more glance over the now sunburnt coloured lake, taking another deep breath. “Happy Birthday, Kiddo. Don’t cause to much chaos today.”

Tony turns around and heads back to the cabin, leaving only crumbs as proof of his vigil.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't really sure how to end the fic, so I hope it wasn't to abrupt of an ending. Hope it turned out okay! 
> 
> Comment and Kudos bring me joy!


End file.
